


pressed up pressed in

by R_Knight



Category: Crooked Media RPF
Genre: First Time, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Wedding Dresses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-25
Updated: 2019-02-25
Packaged: 2019-11-05 14:37:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17920709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/R_Knight/pseuds/R_Knight
Summary: Tommy watched him. Kept watching him, the high flush on his cheeks and the movement of his neck as he swallowed; his eyes drawn from the line of Jon’s neck to his bare collar bones, the careful way he was holding himself, breathing shallow so that he wouldn’t rip the dress.You don’t look stupid, Tommy wanted to say.You don’t look stupid at all.





	pressed up pressed in

**Author's Note:**

> This popped into my head when I was writing something entirely different and heard the lyrics ‘I wanna take you in the kitchen / Lift up your wedding dress …’ and then ignored the rest of the song in favour of the image of Favs in a wedding dress. So that’s really all this is. The dress sort of looks like [this](https://www.theknot.com/fashion/dp375-marguerite-platinum-by-demetrios-wedding-dress) but without the lace. No real wedding dresses were hurt in the making of this fic.
> 
> Thanks as ever to my partner in thought crime, Maia, and of course this isn’t real/keep it secret.

When Tommy’s cousin had confessed to him that he was the only person she thought she could trust to give it to her straight about which wedding dresses actually looked good, Tommy had agreed easily to tagging along with her and her bridesmaids to the fittings. Inviting Jon had been a no-brainer, since Tommy didn’t trust Lovett not to overpower everyone with his questionable taste, but he didn’t expect Jon to be _quite_ so excited about the whole thing.

They had gone for brunch first, and Jon was already three mimosas and half a flute of champagne deep when he admitted to Tommy that he’d never been involved in a wedding party before, and was just excited to see what it involved. It was sort of endearing. Tommy had watched him nibble at canapes, washing them down with champagne and charming all of Beth’s friends with Washington stories, and had to fight a smile. He was working on a good tan from beginnings of the summer, and the way he got loose and pliable with alcohol was distracting. He didn’t blame them.

By the time they got to the bit where Beth was actually trying on wedding dresses Tommy was feeling a low buzz that meant he probably shouldn’t have taken the free champagne offered, but Jon had smiled at the woman serving them as she introduced herself, flushed and saccharine, and he’d been so preoccupied as to take the glass without really noticing. It made sense not to waste it, anyway.

 

They got through four dresses and an argument between two of the bridesmaids about the difference between empire and a-line dresses by the time Tommy realized that his input wasn’t required this time round. The woman serving them drinks - Eloise, Tommy reminded himself - informed him and Jon that this was more of a three tiered event, and the first visit to the shop was more to get a sense of styles that Beth liked. Tommy tried not to show how relieved he was by the fact, definitely past the level of tipsy that could offer remotely helpful advice, but the look Jon shot his way was a sly, knowing thing.

“You slacking off on the job Tommy?”

“Nah,” Tommy said slowly, eyeing Jon warily. “I don’t think we’re really needed right now.”

Jon hummed. Tilted his head to the side and reached out his hand so that he could brush the very tips of his fingers against one of the dresses Beth had discarded for being ‘too much’.

“Yeah, I think the girls have it covered,” he said. His voice was breathy, his eyes lit up. Tommy wanted to know what he was thinking about. Behind them, he could hear Beth trying to de-escalate the argument between the two bridesmaids. Jon took the silk between his fingers, rubbing over it gently.

“You ever wonder what it would be like to wear one of these?”

“Uh, no?” Tommy said, voice rising at the end. He didn’t know what Jon was getting at, but he sort of wanted to find out. “Have you?”

Jon shrugged, mouth quirked. “It’s really soft. Feels nice.”

“Yeah?” Tommy said, encouraging. He thought he knew where Jon was going with this, now.

“ _Yeah._ Yeah, Tommy. C’mon, I’ll need help getting it done up.” And then he was standing, casting only the briefest of glances back at the girls before deeming them distracted enough, then snatching up the dress he’d been touching, shoving Tommy into one of the changing rooms with him and locking the door behind them.

It was a tight fit. Bigger than a normal changing room, but not by that much. Not enough to comfortably contain two grown men and a dress that took up two thirds of the space besides. Tommy stayed pressed up against the mirror where Jon had pushed him, watching. Jon was drunk enough to be shameless, stripping his clothes off not seconds after the door was shut, tugging his shirt over his head and kicking his jeans into a pile in the corner. Tommy couldn’t help flicking his gaze down for a second, eyeing his white briefs, the familiar _Tommy John_ printed on the waistband. He looked back up, past all that bare, tan skin, and smiled ruefully at Jon, looking back at him.

“You needed help?” he said, voice barely above a whisper. He didn’t think anyone would hear them over the music being played in the shop - Etta James, another gentle romantic song to get the bride-to-be in the right state of mind, he guessed - but he felt the need to be quiet nonetheless. They were caught in something, and Tommy didn’t want to be the one to break it.

“Oh, yeah,” Jon said, tugging the dress off its hanger. The buttons were already undone from when Beth had tried it on earlier, and so all Jon had to do was step into it, tug it up over this thighs and stomach, twisting and pulling at the sleeves until he could get his arms through them comfortably. It was - ridiculous, really. The skirt was huge, a serious ball gown thing, and Beth had called the neckline _sweetheart_ \- it was pretty, but clearly made for someone with far more in the chest area than Jon, gaping a little, but close to being too tight across the tops of his arms.

None of that made it any less hot though, Tommy realized with dismay. Jon was turning away from him, hands held carefully over his stomach. He moved with a delicateness that belied how drunk he was, clearly worried about stretching the dress around his torso. Not quite enough to take it off, though. Jon wasn’t exactly wide, so besides the empty space in the bust area, it would be a pretty decent fit if he didn't breath out too much. Jon hadn’t seen himself yet, so he had no clue how he _looked_. Had no clue what he was doing to Tommy. Was sweet and drunk and oblivious and waiting, a little impatiently, for Tommy to do up the buttons at the back of his dress.

“Am I too big?” Jon said finally, starting to turn his head.

“No,” Tommy said quickly, stepping forward as far as the small space would allow, close enough that Jon would be able to feel Tommy’s breath on his neck. Close enough that he wouldn’t turn around just yet. Tommy needed a little longer to compose himself, not that this would help. It was an intimate thing, taking the tiny buttons between his fingers and fitting them through the eye-holes, pulling the fabric together and making sure the line was straight along Jon’s spine.

They were both quiet. Outside, he could hear the music still playing, a soundtrack at odds to the argument still playing out between the two bridesmaids. Tommy figured those two probably wouldn’t be coming to the next fitting.

Although after this maybe he and Jon wouldn’t be, either.

“Okay,” Tommy said once he’d got the last of buttons done up, “you’re good.” He gave into the urge to touch Jon then, the barest press of his fingertips to back of his neck, turning him so that he could face the mirror and see himself. Jon went easy. He grinned when he saw himself, twisted his hips to one side then the other so the skirt would move with him with a gentle swish of sound.

“I was right,” Jon said, catching Tommy’s eyes in their reflection. Tommy was stood behind him a little, hand still on the back of Jon’s neck, and wasn’t _that_ an image. “I look pretty stupid, but it feels good.”

Tommy watched him. Kept watching him, the high flush on his cheeks and the movement of his neck as he swallowed; his eyes drawn from the line of Jon’s neck to his bare collar bones, the careful way he was holding himself, breathing shallow so that he wouldn’t damage the dress. _You don’t look stupid_ , he wanted to say. _You don’t look stupid at all_.

“Okay, well, we should probably get back - ” Jon started, turning as if for Tommy to undo the buttons for him, but Tommy just couldn’t. Couldn’t let him do that, couldn’t let the chance pass him up, couldn’t bear to let Jon out of his grasp when he looked like this, was with him like this, pressed in close, dressed like that. Tommy probably couldn’t put into words why exactly this was doing it for him, why _this_ was what finally made him act on something he’d been thinking about for months now, but it didn’t matter.

All that mattered was his grip tightening on Jon’s neck, hard enough that he gasped, a little thing that burst forth before he could catch it. It was Jon letting himself be pressed against the door to the dressing room, his eyes wide and eager, caught between looking at their reflection in the mirror and at Tommy - and it was when he was looking over Tommy’s shoulder that he took his chance, leaned in to press his mouth to Jon’s, just a quick thing, only lingering long enough for Jon to make a sound in his throat and lean forward, eyes fully on Tommy now.

“You don’t know how good you look,” Tommy said against Jon’s jaw, pressing biting kisses there - not enough to mark, not now, but just enough to make him feel it - then trailing his way down Jon’s neck, smiling against his skin at the way he tilted his neck to allow for easier access. He slipped the hand not at Jon’s nape up his waist, over the soft material that wrapped tightly around him and over the bust, sliding his fingers beneath the material like he would with a woman, wrinkling it a little in order to get his hand in there.

If the sounds Jon made before were sweet, the noises he made when Tommy got his fingers on his nipples were sweeter still, half-stifled and desperate, his back curved as he pushed his chest towards him. Tommy took a moment to savor the look of him, so needy. Then he removed his hand, ignoring Jon’s whine, so that he could do what he’d wanted since Jon had pushed him in here - and he dropped to his knees.

“ _Oh,_ ” Jon said, his voice rough and breathless, his fingers stuttering between his stomach and Tommy’s head, like he wanted to get his hands in Tommy’s hair but still thought he might burst out of the dress if he didn’t hold himself in. He sighed, eyes going glassy when Tommy wrapped a hand around his ankle, sweeping it up over his calf and down again, teasing. He repeated the motion a few times, only letting it rest, cupped around the back of Jon’s thigh, when he started to get restless and squirmy.

“ _Oh,_ ” Jon said, and then again, “ _oh, oh, fuck_ ,” when Tommy used his spare hand to lift the hem of the skirt, rucking up the layers, relishing in the quiet sounds of fabric rubbing together and Jon’s shallow, panting breaths, and then ducking his head beneath them. Jon’s sounds were muffled but still audible, so Tommy could hear the sound he made when he leaned forward to press a wet, open mouthed kiss over the head of his dick, trapped beneath the material of his briefs.

He could hear it, and it sent a little jolt of arousal through him to know how gone Jon already was, but he also knew that much more of it would catch someone’s attention.

He pinched the back of Jon’s thigh in reprimand even as he tugged his waistband down just enough to get his dick free, finally getting his mouth around it, feeling suddenly desperate himself. It was hot enough in the changing room already, but with the skirt half covering him it was like a sauna, and he could feel the back of his shirt sticking to his skin, his face flushing hot and pink. He’d be regretting it later, but for now it just added to the urgency and the arousal, his head fuzzy and his mouth full and his whole body lit up with it.

It didn’t last long. When Jon’s hips started to twitch in a way that suggested he was close, Tommy took him as deep as he could manage, humming with pleasure at the feel of him, his dick hot and heavy on his tongue, his thigh warm and sweat-damp beneath his hand, gripping him hard enough to bruise. When he finally came it was with a quiet enough sound that Tommy figured he had muffled himself, and after swallowing him down and gently sucking him through the aftershocks, Tommy untangled himself from the many layers of the dress and shifted out from underneath it. He took a moment to breath in the comparatively cool air, savoring the feel of it on his over-warm face, before finally looking up at Jon. It felt like an electric shock, to see him  with his chest rising and falling in rapid, tight breaths, his eyes wet and glassy, and his mouth - red and slick, still wrapped around his own fingers.

“Oh,” Tommy said, echoing Jon, “good - that’s good.” He thought about unzipping his pants for a second, jerking off while looking at Jon like that, or - _god_ , jerking off on the dress, rubbing off on it, getting Jon even messier, but then he noticed abruptly that the arguing outside had gone quiet, the music long since moved on to something else. Jon must have noticed too, because his eyes cleared and he took his hands from his mouth with a frantic look on his face, like _Tommy_ would know what to do if someone came knocking. They would be blacklisted for _life._

They waited for a moment, straining to hear what was being said outside, but Tommy felt himself slowly relax when he realized they were just discussing the merits of the newest dress Beth had tried on and not, for example, talking about how Jon and Tommy were fucking in one of the changing rooms.

“ _Fuck_ ”, Tommy said giddily, pushing himself up onto slightly unsteady legs. “This was such a stupid idea - here, c’mon let me get the buttons.” Jon turned around for him obligingly, shaking his head and grinning down at the floor.

“Worth it though.”

“I’m glad you think so, Jon” Tommy said, fiddling with the last of the buttons and fighting the urge to press his teeth against the back of Jon’s neck, “because this dress is 2k, and half these buttons are broken.”  

He _did_ bite Jon’s neck then, when Jon started laughing. “ _Ah_ \- fuck, we can split the cost. Am I not worth a thousand dollars, Tommy?”

“Considering I didn’t even get off,” Tommy said, pressing up against Jon’s back so that he could feel how hard he still was, slipping his hands inside the open dress and around Jon’s waist. “I guess we’ll just have to make sure we get good use out of it then, huh?”

**Author's Note:**

> The Etta James song was At Last. In my mind they had to rock paper scissors over who went back to the girls and who had to sneak off to buy the dress with a flimsy excuse about filming TV or something.


End file.
